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BloodClan

Shift opened his ice-blue eyes. Ugh. He had been lost in a hazy dream where the air was warm and thick with the scent of plentiful prey, and the warm sun shone down upon his sleek black-and-white fur. He had been warm and well-fed, only to wake up to reality.

He was curled up in some long grass in the wild countryside on this frigid morning, which was not the slightest bit comfortable but preferable to sleeping on the freezing, ice covered dirt that would melt under his weight and leave him wet and miserable. Not that he wasn't already. The lengthy grass blades were sharp and poked into his flesh. He reluctantly stood up, stretching his muscles. Where was he going to go today for shelter? He didn't want to go back to the leaky barn again, where snow would stick to the roof, melt and drip through the crevices, and wet his pelt. He certainly wasn't sleeping on the long grass again, that was for sure. He sighed and stretched his sore muscles again, then padded off away from the grass and towards the horizon. As the sun rose from behind the skyline to above the earth, clouds obscured the massive source of light and heat. He was growing weary, and his muscles grew tighter and tighter with every step he took. But what else was he going to do? Finding a good source of shelter and prey was as good a use of a freezing day like this one as any. He was sure he had walked for several fox-lengths, and his pawpaws felt scraped with the harsh feel of the ground underneath him.

Wait. The ground is rough?

He looked down at his white, massive paws. Underneath them, the ground had changed from the ochre muddy clay of the countryside to a large Thunderpath. Although he thought he had not found any shelter yet, he realized now that he had walked straight into a Twolegplace! He sniffed the cold air. There was no Twoleg scent, but cat scents were abundant. Yes! Not only would this abandoned city make for a good source of shelter and prey, but there would be other cats to converse with, to love and to protect. He had missed that special bond, since as a loner no cats lived with him. With this many scents in the air, he wondered if maybe a Clan lived here. His fur prickled with excitement at the thought. He had heard legends of the Clans from passing loners, rogues, and even Clan cats on his journeys. He had heard that some were kind and welcoming, that others were vicious and malevolent. Some were ruthless and fought with other Clans constantly. He heard that the Clan cats were massive, trained warriors, and could kill a lithe loner like him swiftly with no second thought. The legends thrilled him, and he had dreamt of joining a Clan sometimes before realizing that idea was too far fetched. But perhaps it wasn’t.

He heard a scurrying of tiny feet on the Thunderpath in front of him. A squirrel! The muscled, sleek tuxedo tom crouched into position and slowly crept. With no camouflage, it was unlikely he would catch this prey, but his mouth was already watering at the thought. Somehow, the stupid squirrel hadn’t even noticed Shift's massive footsteps. Shift leaped, pinning the squirrel with his weary paws, then killing it with a graceful bite to the neck. As hungry as he was, he decided that if he was going to join a clan- that is, if a clan even lived here- he had better save the squirrel and offer it to the clan cats. With the limp squirrel still hanging in his gentle jaws, he sniffed the air, following the trail of cat scent to where it grew strongest- a large, abandoned building. From the window, he could smell the scents much more strongly, and he knew that a group of some kind had to live here! He leaped up, his skinny body following suit and tumbling gracefully through the window and onto the floor of the building. He paced around the patterned floor, which was seemingly colder than the snow and ice in the countryside. Finally, he settled down, relaxing his weary muscles slightly but keeping his eyes open and alert. He laid the squirrel in front of him and waited patiently to see if any of the fabled muscled, colossal warriors would appear.

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Can I use this? Probably.

BloodClan

Kite, who often strayed far from the central portion of BloodClan's territory, to flit through the city that she had once walked alone. Now, the scent of BloodClan clung to her long, luxurious fur, and the threat of her deadly clanmates--and her own pastime of practicing her combat skills on loners and interlopers--left her with far more power than she was used to while slipping through the city.

When she caught sight of the large black and white tom, however, Kite felt a moment's hesitation about attacking him. From where she crouched in the shadows, he seemed awfully large, and given her most recent sparring session's wounds still marring her pelt she thought he might be more trouble than he was worth. Still.

The tortie stalked the newcomer through alleys that were now familiar. He seemed to stop to scent here and there, and to Kite's alarm, he went straight to their camp. Currently empty at the moment--with the members scattered to pursue their own interests, Kite assumed--the black and white interloper sat, stolen prey in his jaws, in roughly the center of the camp.

Still, this was her new home, and she felt confident that her clanmates would arrive soon. So Kite slid out of the shadows, and sashayed over towards the newcomer.

"Well,"she began, eyeing him up and down,"You seem a bit far away from home, kitty. You're interloping in BloodClan territory, did you know that?"

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BloodClan

Shift huddled together on the cold floor, still waiting for a 'warrior' to show up. Suddenly, a large, scarred she-cat with long, fluffy fur stepped out of the shadows, as if she had materialized from darkness itself. The female warrior looked at him intensely, examining every part of him. He felt nervous and almost attacked. Was he not welcome here?

The lithe black-and-white tom cocked his head to the side in both confusion and satisfaction. "BloodClan? So there is a Clan that lives here, then!" He held back a purr, careful to not upset the massive tortoiseshell. He grabbed the squirrel in his jaws tenderly, displaying it to his questioner. "I caught this squirrel on the road out there." He laid the squirrel in front of her gently, dipping his head in respect to the massive warrior. He licked his chest fur, embarrassed. "And you're right, I am far away from home. " He looked towards the window longingly. "Very, very far away. I wander from place to place every night." He looked back desperately at the muscled, shaggy calico, his ice-blue eyes shimmering with an unknown emotion. "I don't have a home. I was looking for prey and shelter today, when I stumbled upon this abandoned Twolegplace. I sensed many intertwining cat scents, and so I supposed there might be a Clan here. This empty clearing had the strongest scent, so I came in." His expression changed to one of kit-like delight. "I've heard legends of mighty Clans with colossal, strong cats as warriors that fight ruthlessly, defend and protect their group from all harm fiercely, and love each other too. I was wondering if I could join a Clan- stop wandering from place to place, contribute to something for once in my life..."

As much as he wanted to join a Clan, to love and protect with all the fierceness of a lion, to fight with all the muscle of a badger, to hunt with all the stealth of a silently passing cloud, this she-cat seemed apprehensive towards him. To her, he must have seemed like a overweight, small, untrained Twoleg cat. He must have looked like he didn't understand scarcity or sacrifice. He must have sounded like he was ignorant to the struggles of other cats. His heart began to pound. Will she accept me? He stood up, and the words he had wanted to say began to tumble out of his mouth clearer than bubbling, frigid water from a river mouth.

He gestured at the squirrel with his oversized white paw. "I brought the squirrel as an offering, as proof that I could be valuable to you. I want to prove to you that I'm not just a soft Twoleg's pet. I won't be a burden onto you. I want to prove to you that I can fight, hunt, and understand Clan life just as your warriors do." He dipped his head in respect again to the tortie, who towered over him in size. It scared him a little, but he refused to act intimidated. His joy had faded from his face, replaced by a mature seriousness.

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BloodClan

Ivyfang

She-Cat | BloodClan | 39 moons

The pet store seemed virtually empty to those who came across it. It didn't come as much of a surprise that someone had wandered aimlessly into their base. Even so, as the trespasser made himself known she lay still in the shadows. Eyes narrowed as not to allow her bright optics to give her away from the shadows. She was confident someone else would approach him, and as if on cue Kite emerged from the shadows herself, making it known to the tom that he was trespassing. The queen listened with great interest to what the tom had to say, speaking of his desire to formulate emotional bonds with others around him, to fight with a purpose and defend with a purpose. Ivyfangs whiskers twitched in amusement when the tuxedo tom announced that he had brought an offering. Going above and beyond but Ivyfang appreciated it all the same. Then he made his intentions crystal clear, declaring his desire to join BloodClan. At this the leader rose to her feet, opening her green eyes and stepping out of the shadows. “You have such a way with words, handsome but unfortunately it's not her clan,” the ebony she-cat slinked over, positioning herself infront of Kite and Shift, ”It’s mine, names Ivyfang. Pleasure.” She trilled, her emerald eyes darted down to the squirrel at her paws. ”I appreciate the offer, love, but to join us it's going to take a bit of a bigger kill if you want to join us.” The queen took the catch in her jaws, setting it in BloodClans own kill pile. ”But if you are as committed as your words make you sound there's little doubt in my mind you won't accomplish the task.” Ivyfang’s own claws unsheathed out of instinct, ”You need to bring me a collar, one like mine, of course the teeth are optional, how you get the collar is really up to you, but killing is always a good option, once you have that come see me again and we’ll definitely have a spot for you.” Ivyfang offered Shift a gentle smile, the tom definitely looked as if he could hold his own. A valuable asset to BloodClan.

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Can I use this? Probably.

BloodClan

Wow, this tom sure liked to talk, huh? He even dropped the prey he had been holding, stolen prey that he proudly presented. Kite's eyes narrowed as he babbled about bonds. He WAS rather large though. Strong looking. When he mentioned stories, with kit-like foolishness, eyes lighting up and tail raising, Kite felt a moment of disgust, as if he had dropped something rotten. Her lip curled, but she maintained her composure. He was a bit...idealistic but there was no need to be rude. Not openly. He could still be useful. So she turned the momentary expression into a pleased one, allowing a smile to spread on her lips.

Kite's yellow eyes slid over to where Ivyfang emerged, a self-satisfied grin sliding across her muzzle as the leader slipped from the shadows. Her attention turned fully from the interloper to Venomheart's mother, always pleasantly surprised when the leader appeared from the shadows, as if a dark thought had summoned her. The confidence, the ease with which she slid from the darkness into the conversation, the dark threat behind her words, despite the pleasant (?) tone.

"Ah, I see you've been graced by our leader's gaze. As she says, BloodClan is her domain, and if you please her, I've no doubt you can become a good clanmate."That last word was slightly clipped, but she dipped her head and flicked her tail, seating herself neatly and wrapping her thick black and orange tail over her paws.

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BloodClan

Shift was beginning to be ticked off with the tortoiseshell. Her eyes narrowed during his spiel, as if mocking him for his desire to be useful. There was a drawl on the word clanmate, as if she didn't believe he could do it. He imagined her expression when he finally joined the Clan, and it relieved his pressure while bringing him a sort of joy. He wasn't, however, angry at all with the graceful black she-cat. The way she slipped out of the shadows as if she was made of nothing but darkness was interesting. The way she complimented him on his words instead of belittling him for his wishes was wise and, well...leader-like. But he had to make a bigger kill to join BloodClan, according to the onyx, lithe leader.

That thought frightened him a little- not because he didn't want to kill. No, his sharp claws, massive paws, and skilled jaw were ready to go. The thing that scared him was that he was so ready. When the mention was made of killing for a collar, a intense burning feeling swept through each of his bones, down his spine and into his tail. It made his paws feel nimble, and his body feel like a strong breeze that could blow away the most steadfast of foes. It made his blood boil. It made him almost prepared, as if nothing was wrong with the notion of murder.

"Yes, Ivyfang. Won't be a problem. I'll come back here when I get the collar." He dipped his head in respect again towards the leader, trying to make her feel as impressed as possible. The territory belonged to her, so it was her he had to please- never mind the disbelieving tortie. He looked at the tortoiseshell now with rage. "And I will get the collar," he spat. I'll show you. I'll show them all.

He leaped out the window, his body gracefully stretching out as the lithe tuxedo tom rolled out onto the street. His plan was to find a Twoleg's pet that was trespassing on BloodClan territory, the way he was. Hypocritical, he knew, but it seemed he wouldn't be respected until he had proven his worth as a ruthless warrior. As he padded along the different twisting and turning alleyways of this abandoned Twolegplace, he understood why the fluffy tortoiseshell she-cat had been so uncaring towards him. To her, he wasn't an eager young loner who wanted to feel fellowship, to bond with other cats, or to fight and protect with all the fierceness of a storm. To her, he was a trespasser on BloodClan territory. For all she knew, he could have been stealing their resources, invading their camp, or even murdering their kits. Even the prey he caught could have been seen as a transgression. But none of that mattered now. He let go of his grudge against the doubtful she-cat, and carried on.

He had entered the building first when the sun had begun to set, after walking the whole day from the countryside where he had been sleeping and hunting uncomfortably for the last moon or so. Now, as his muscles grew ever weary and pangs of hunger began to strike his belly, the stars had risen high into the dark blue sky, casting a soft, ambient light on the ground. It was night again, and his lack of sleep and prey made him feel weaker than ever before. But he had to carry on…he had to get the collar, he had to go in for the kill. It was quite some time later before he smelled a strong scent flooding the air. It was overly sweet, in a way, but it also poisoned the air. Whatever it was, it didn’t exactly smell nice. He turned the alley corner. There, in the lane, stood a small, fluffy gray tabby. He was fat, soft, and clearly a Twoleg pet. He walked around as if he owned the place. Disgusting. Mimicking the tortoiseshell, he snarled “You’re trespassing on BloodClan territory!” The chubby, untrained tabby tom froze, his blue eyes glittering in fear. Shift glanced down at the pet’s fragile, thin neck. A blue collar was wrapped around it, glimmering under the soft light of the stars.

Without a word, his body began to prickle with adrenaline. Readiness for battle racked through his bones. His body felt light as air again, just like it did when the kill was mentioned inside the building. He felt like he could easily defeat this poor tabby tom. He was practically weaker than prey. Without a word, Shift lunged for the pet’s throat, sinking his sharp teeth into the soft flesh around the blue collar. The pet meowed in pain and swung his paw towards the tender skin on Shift’s cheek. The fur split, and began to stain his white chin and underbelly with small drops of blood. Despite the stinging sensation, Shift kept his teeth sunk deep into the small tom’s fragile neck. The pet wriggled and writhed, nearly helpless underneath the strong force of the tuxedo tom’s mighty jaw. The small cat’s collar had loosened with all the struggling to escape from Shift. The pet again swung his paws furiously with every last ounce of force in his body, scratching the tuxedo tom’s chest several times deep into the flesh, turning the white fluff pink. Shift stopped gripping the tabby cat’s throat, his jaw aching, but continued holding him down with his massive, white, seven-toed paw. The blood seeped through the gaps in his paw, staining the pure cream a deep red. The collar of the pet had loosened enough for it to slide off his head- perfect for the goal he wanted. He took a kind of joy in the blood flowing like waves in a river and the struggling of the small tom, barely larger than a kit. His blue eyes finally froze, and his body went limp, leaving him as nothing more than a bloodstained bundle of fur. Shift gripped the blue collar, which was now covered in splotches of the fresh blood. He tugged it over the limp pet’s head, sliding it off his neck. Gripping it in his bloodstained jaws, he looked down again at his kill and huffed. Yet again the sick satisfaction flooded his body, and made him realize how much he enjoyed the experience of winning in this way- the flowing blood, the writhing, the focus that he felt…for once, he felt alive. He turned away from the gray tom and stumbled back slowly. His muscles already were aching with the struggle of walking to this Twolegplace, and now even that small battle weighed heavily on his shoulders. His pads were dry and scraped from walking on the rough, sharp roads. Although he struggled with each step, he continued to think of the new Clan he would be allowed to join once he got back. The idea renewed his determination and kept him going through the pain.

The stars were much higher in the dark sky now, and the moon made the night even brighter. His sharp hunger echoed harder and harder inside him as the need to rest washed over him like a gurgling waterfall and aches surged through his muscles. Finally, the scent of the cats in the abandoned building entered his nose. He hauled himself up clumsily into the window frame, then hopped down onto the cold floor. He held back a grimace at the impact on his weary legs. Still clamping the collar in his jaws, he trotted over to the tortie she-cat and the BloodClan leader, careful not to let the uncomfortable drowsy feeling, pain, or insatiable hunger overtake him. He had to show respect and poise in front of his future leader, no matter the cost. He relaxed his mouth, letting the blood-covered collar slide unto the floor in front of his paws. His eyes shut on instinct, but he fluttered them back open, and looked directly into the grass-green eyes of Ivyfang.

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BloodClan

Ivyfang

She-Cat | BloodClan | 39 moons

A small smile fell upon her maw as she watched the form of the tuxedo cat disappear into the territory. She was definitely interested to see what he had to bring BloodClan as far as protection and loyalty.Blissfully, the day carried on and soon gave way to the generous night sky. Each star glimmering and shining in a spectacle so great even Ivyfang could hardly keep herself from watching through the shattered window. Her mind vaguely drifted to the idea of her newest litter. This was no doubt going to be her last little, Ivyfang felt somewhat troubled at the though. She wanted to carry on having kittens but she knew her time was coming to an end. She was determined to protect these last ones with her life and she could only hope her previous litters helped her do the same. Soon the gentle patter of feet could be heard across BloodClan streets, Ivyfang strained her ears to listen, observing as Shift made a reappearance, blood dripping from his maw and sides, collar dangling from his jaws. Ivyfang felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her, she had hoped we would be able to accomplish the task.Ivyfang rose to her feet as Shift approached and set his collar down. She let a smile form across her face and she nodded in approval. "Yes you do. Well done." She trilled swishing her tail lightly examining the bloodied collar. "I guess theres nothing left to do but formally welcome you to BloodClan, I dont think I caught your name, dear?" She questioned.

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BloodClan

The tuxedo tom, nearly washed away by both his pride and his pain, dipped his head lightly, careful not to slide and crash into the ground. "Name's Shift," he replied, standing up straight and tall despite his aching arms and legs. "I hope I can become a functioning member of your clan." He closed his eyes again, this time for a few moments longer before forcing them open again. He refused to show weakness, not right now, not right here.